


Checkmate

by cheritsundere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Chess Metaphors, Chess puns, Crushes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Crush, First Kiss, First Meetings, Firsts, Fluff, It is now, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Pining, Safe Klance Week 2018, The kids are cute, is that a tag?, klancesafewriters, they are like in elementary and middle school for most of the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 07:19:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14995697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheritsundere/pseuds/cheritsundere
Summary: It's when Keith sees his opponent, a boy with a bright smile and even brighter clothes, that he knows he's already lost.Well, he'll win the match, but his heart? Yeah, that's lost for good.-Klance Chess Players AU





	Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this purely self indulgent AU for quite some time now, but the current Safe Klance Week finally gave me the motivation to do so. This fic is written with the first 3 prompts for the week (Meet Cute, Pining, and Firsts) in mind. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I had writing it.

Why was he here. It was Saturday morning. Saturday. morning. That meant Yugioh and Lucky Charms. Curling up under the blankets and playing his Gameboy. 

 

Literally doing anything but this.

 

This...torture.

 

“Keith, stop frowning. Your face is going to get stuck like that one day,” Shiro bumped him on the head playfully. Taking his little brother by the hand, Shiro made his way to the front of the school cafeteria. He’d thank him one day. Maybe not today but-

 

“Good. I hope it gets stuck. Then people would be scared of me and you wouldn’t even be able to take me into public and I could just stay home all Saturday,” Keith pouted, still fighting valiantly against the hold Shiro had on his wrist. Why did his mom even sign him up for this? He looked at all the stupid colorful signs plastered on the walls of the school, most with lame puns that he’s sure no one laughed at but people like his big brother. 

 

“Okay Mr. Drama King,” Shiro huffed a laugh at him, now stopping in a line. This  _ was _ the elementary school division, right? “If you never want to do this again after today, you don’t have to, but Mom at least wants you to try.” He looked down at Keith’s figure, still pouting and in his standard ‘I-don’t-like-this’ pose of crossed arms and stiff legs.

 

“I just,” Keith puffed out some air, blowing up his bangs,”don’t get why I gotta ‘interact’.” He air-quoted for more effect, earning a laugh from Shiro in response. “I mean, I already have you and Mom…” Keith chose to ignore that he couldn’t include the words ‘and Dad’ anymore. “And I have Kuro!” He added, not forgetting their black husky at home.

 

“And it’s great that you have us, champ,” Shiro squat down, bringing Keith and him to the same eye-level. He gave a little ruffle to his hair, disregarding the little scowl Keith was sporting increase. “But, you know, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone your own age to talk to too, would it?” 

 

Shiro loved his little brother so much and enjoyed being the one to be able to teach him, but he had to admit that there were quite a few problems that came with homeschooling. Sure, Keith could study at his own pace, far outgrowing the level that he normally would be placed at in public schools. He could also be able to spend quality time with the family, time that Shiro wouldn’t trade for the world. It was also less expensive in the long run and, after Dad passed away, their mom could use all the help they could get. Despite all this though, it had a major drawback.

 

That drawback being that Keith really didn’t get much social interaction since he was always home. 

 

“I don’t see how this,” Keith gestured to their current situation, “fixes that.” He glared at a couple of kids and their parents that turned around at his rise in volume. He also ignored the warning look that Shiro sent his way too. 

 

“Well, you get to have fun doing something you really like and meet others that also like it too,” Shiro straightened back up, giving Keith a little push when the line finally started to move. “Not only that, but it’s a competition! I know you’ve been getting tired of just beating me over and over. I’m not much of a challenge.”

 

Keith smirked at that. Okay fine, if that’s what Shiro was gonna play at, he would take the compliment. It didn’t mean he had to like being awake and out of bed at 8 am on a Saturday though. He looked up at the desk, finally reaching the front of the line with Shiro. A man with an orange mustache and matching hair to boot greeted them with a blinding smile, twirling a pen in his hand. No way the man was born with that hair color. He may not have met a lot of people in his 10 years, but that kinda hair was only natural for cartoon characters, he was sure. 

 

“Hello there, young chess master! May I ask your name?” The man winked at him before looking down at the papers in front of him. 

 

“U-um,” Keith was shocked at how loud the man was. He looked up at Shiro for confirmation, and after being given a nod of encouragement, he answered, “Keith Kogane, um-” Should he call him ‘Sir’? Mom always said that he should be polite to strangers. “Sir.” he finished, quietly.

 

“It’s a pleasure to be called sir by an honored guest, Mr. Kogane!” the man chuckled, checking off something on the paper. 

 

Keith raised an eyebrow at this. ‘Guest?’ 

 

Apparently the man noticed his confusion and continued, “I see here you are joining us as a solo participant. We don’t get very many competitors not on school teams. As such, we consider kids like yourself true guests to our tournaments!” The man stuck out a hand to Keith, obviously for a handshake. “You may call me Coran, Mr. Kogane. If there’s anything I can do to help you or your guardian’s experience here, just let me know!”

 

He took hold of Coran’s grasp and gave it a firm shake. Dad always said that a firm shake was good for first impressions. “Thank you, Coran, sir,” he gave the man a smile. He seemed...nice. If all the people at these things were as nice as him, Keith might give this disruption to his Saturday morning a chance.

 

“Most of the classrooms are taken up by school teams, so we generally put solos in the teacher lounge,” Coran said, now turning to Shiro. “Although, this time around, it appears Keith is the only solo we have.” His eyes softened, before glancing back at Keith. “So, Mr. Kogane, you can hang out in the teacher’s lounge if you need to rest or practice for your matches, but feel free to explore the classrooms as much as you’d like. Although the others are technically your potential rivals in the tournament ranking, in chess everyone is a friend! I’m sure you could find tons of worthy opponents in games for fun.”

 

Boy was Coran talking to the wrong person. You couldn’t just tell him that he had a room all to himself and then expect him to leave! This was the best outcome ever! He turned to smile at Shiro before noticing his brother’s chasticing glare. Uh oh. Glare number 8. That was the ‘No-you-aren’t-getting-away-with-that’ look. Keith frowned.

 

“I’m sure Keith can’t wait to explore,” Shiro answered, still keeping his gaze on Keith, daring him to argue. 

 

“Yeah, can’t wait,” Keith answered back, sarcasm lacing ever word. Stupid Shiro and his ‘friendship’. 

 

-

 

“You aren’t staying in here the whole time,” Shiro sighed, pulling out a chair and setting up his brother’s chess set. 

 

“Why not?” Keith crinkled his eyebrows. He said he’d go to this thing and here he was. He never agreed that he’d be Friendly Freddy. 

 

“Because, that defeats the whole purpose of why Mom signed you up in the first place. You’re never going to make a friend just by staying in here in between matches,” Shiro argued. He finished setting up the board before taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs. Man, these were comfy. Maybe while Keith was at his matches, he could take a little nap-

 

“Uggggggh, fine!” Keith groaned, slouching down in his own chair. “But not right now, after my first match,” he bargained, deepening his scowl for extra intimidation.

 

“Deal,” Shiro grinned, before moving a pawn. “How about a warm up before your match? What do you say?”

 

Keith’s eyes lit up before straightening in his seat. A warm up match sounded great.

 

-

 

“Okay so it says your first match is with a...Shay Christine,” Shiro reads off, taking a look at the match ups listed on the wall. “And you’ll be playing black side.”

 

Keith squints at the name and board number. Seat 115, huh? Was that...was that good? Seemed kinda low in the standings. Sure it’s his first tournament, but still? How many people were competing? He asks Shiro as much but is met with no better of a response. Turns out both of them were kinda unaware of how the matching system worked. 

 

Oh well. A match was a match, right?

 

Shiro helped him find his seat soon enough and they both began setting up his board. It was apparently common courtesy that whoever got to the seat number first should set up their board if they had one. A couple of kids at the table also pulled out some weird clock thing and set it beside the board. He’d have to ask that Coran guy what those were for, since Shiro came up with no answer either. Maybe his opponent knew? He’d have to ask this Shay person when they got here. 

 

If they got here. 

 

Keith was low-key hoping they’d be a no show. It’d give him an automatic win and he could just go back to the lounge. Not only that, but if it wasn’t a real match, he could also tell Shiro as much and then say he didn’t have to leave the lounge until his second match, since the first one didn’t count!

 

Finally finishing up setting the board with Keith, Shiro gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and a good luck before heading back off to the lounge. Keith couldn’t help but stare at the clock on the wall of the gym, watching the seconds tick by. The gym was starting to get full and everyone was taking their appointed seats at the long rows of tables when Keith finally started getting a few butterflies in his stomach. What would happen when his opponent  _ did  _ show up if they did? Did they just automatically start the match? There also had to be a time limit, right? Maybe that’s what those clocks were for: to time them. He was usually fast in beating Shiro, but what if this opponent was really good and the game lasted forever and he was stuck here all day-

 

“U-um, h-hello,” a small girl with short brown hair took a seat opposite of him. She gave a small wave before taking out one of those clocks out of her bag. 

 

Was using them normal?!

 

“You must be Keith,” she smiled shyly, setting the clock to her right. “My name’s Shay, I hope you don’t mind me putting the clock here?”

 

“Uh, sure?” Keith mentally slapped himself up the head. ‘Now’s the part where you ask a  question if you don’t understand something, kiddo.’ a voice sounding a lot like Shiro echoed inside his head. “Actually, this is my first tournament so I don’t really...know what the clock is for…” he trailed off. Great job, Keith. Way to come off like a moron. 

 

“Oh! Well, the clock is a way to make the game more difficult, I guess?” Shay’s smile was dialed up a few more degrees, probably to try and make Keith feel better about the whole situation. It reminded him of when Shiro would try and explain his college classes: patient but almost giddy at explaining a concept he knew so much about. 

 

“You set the clock for a time limit, usually 30 minutes on both sides,” she continued, while setting the clock in demonstration, “and start the timer when the game starts. When your turn ends, you hit your button and it turns off your timer, but starts your opponents timer! So you are timed for your move, and so is your opponent. If someone runs out of time, then the other person automatically wins!” She finished, clapping her hands together softly. 

 

Oh, that. That made sense. Huh.

 

“So, if I only had two pieces on my board with my King, and you almost have me in checkmate, but your time runs out, I still win?” Keith asked, bringing a hand to his chin. 

 

“Yes!” Shay nodded, smile still in place and waiting for any more questions about the topic. “Um, actually,” she wrung her hands together a little, nervousness painting her features, “if, well, if you don’t want to use the clock, I can put it away. I just like using it because it makes it more fun, but I know how scary your first tournament is so-”

 

Wow, Coran was right. Even though she was his opponent, she was so-

 

“Thanks,” Keith gave her a smile in return. She was nice, too. Just like Coran. “That’s okay though, I wanna give it a try,” his smile turned into a smirk of determination.

 

At that, Shay’s eyes lit up and her smile returned full force.

 

“We are about to begin the first round!” Keith’s attention was brought to a familiar voice in front of all the tables. Coran pointed to the clock at the side of the gym and continued, “The time is 8:30! Players, shake hands,” Keith followed the lead of the kids seated beside him and shook Shay’s hand, “and may the game begin!”

 

“Good luck, Keith!” Shay whispered, already moving a pawn and hitting the clock.

 

“You too,” Keith answered. He moved his own piece and hit the clock right away.

 

Alright. Now to see how good someone besides Shiro was.

 

-

 

“Checkmate,” Keith declared, moving his queen just so. He looked up at Shay and gave a small grin. 

 

She looked a little disappointed before sighing and then reaching across the board to shake his hand with another smile back in place. “You’re really good. I can’t believe this is your first tournament!”

 

Keith felt a little giddy at the compliment. Sure, he knew he was pretty good, it’s not like Shiro sucked at chess, but to hear it from someone besides his mom or brother? It felt good.

 

“Thanks,” he shook her hand and started to put away the pieces and board into his backpack, “you’re pretty good yourself.” Not as good as Shiro, but she didn’t have to know that.

 

“I’m getting better, I think,” she laughed a little, still keeping her voice down to not disturb the other competitors. “I’ve only been playing for a few months, so I still have a lot to learn.”

 

Wow, she was a beginner? That was-

 

“Then you’re actually really good!” Keith answered, a little too loudly too based on the look from the kid to his right. He went back to a whisper, “I’ve been playing for years now. If I was a beginner, I think you would have beaten me easily.”

 

He looked back at Shay and noticed her eyes start to widen, then a smile larger than ever take over her face. 

 

“Thanks!”

 

-

 

“...So then I traded my rook for her knight as a decoy to set up the checkmate!” Keith answered, taking a bite of his waffle sticks that Shiro got him for breakfast. He was currently explaining his victory over Shay while taking in a much needed sugar rush. Mornings were definitely not his thing. 

 

“Not too shabby, champ,” Shiro answered with a laugh, pride lacing his words. He took a swig of his coffee before attempting to ruffle up Keith’s hair again. It was a failure considering Keith’s lightning reflexes were only heightened by the sugar now coursing through his veins. Why had he decided to give him waffles of all things for breakfast? “So, are you going to go out and explore now? We did have a deal,” he grinned.

 

Keith stuffed the last waffle stick into his mouth before mumbling out a snarky ‘yes’. With a Keith certified scowl, he jumped out of his chair, grabbed his backpack and went to leave. He turned around and gave his brother a glare for extra measure before leaving and checking out the school. 

 

And by ‘checking out the school’, Keith meant ‘look for a place to hide and play his gameboy’.

 

-

 

Keith found a place behind the stairs that worked perfectly. Barely anyone else was around and those that were seemed to mind their own business, playing their own handhelds by themselves or with a friend. This must just be the designated ‘gaming spot’ for these tournament things. It’s not like Keith could be the only person who wasn’t a real people person. Heck, it’s one of the reasons he liked chess so much: no real talking.

 

Before he knew it, the hour break had passed and he was on his way back to the lounge. Shiro even took his cover story of trading Pokemon with some kid name Aaron as his ‘social interaction requirement’ for the break. 

 

Sure, ‘Aaron’ didn’t exist, but Shiro didn’t have to know that.

 

The rest of the matches flew by much less uneventful than his match with Shay. Not only did he already know how to use the clock, thus negating the need to ask questions and strike up a conversation, but his opponents just seemed kinda…

 

Well, boring.

 

His second match was basically over in 10 moves, not even lasting 5 minutes. He couldn’t even remember the dude’s name, just that he had this really weird necklace thing, so he just called him ‘Necklace Boy’. The third was a lot better in that it lasted for about 30 minutes, but he was basically just as dull as Necklace Boy, if not more. The fourth match was okay, but not much of a challenge, despite his opponent bragging that his father was a champion chess player and he was known as the ‘prince of their private school’s chess team’, whatever that meant. ‘Prince Lotor’ was an easy win and, if his sneer at the end of the match accompanied by the handshake was anything to go by, one that his opponent wasn’t too happy about. 5, 6, and 7 went by in a blur, despite the supposed increase in difficulty since these opponents were undefeated at that point too. Heck, even ‘Prince Lotor’ was better than number 6 who ended up running out of time because he couldn’t decide where to move his bishop. 

 

The breaks in between the matches were almost just as bad too. If it wasn’t for some kid actually wanting to battle his pokemon team and not just him making up a story for Shiro, Keith would say that this whole tournament was a waste of time. 

 

Besides his first match with Shay, this ‘making friends’ idea was a bust. She was basically the only one he could even see himself talking to outside of obligation. Even then, he really wouldn’t know what to talk to her about besides chess.

 

All in all, Keith kinda hated today and told Shiro as much. His brother just sighed, asking him to at least stay for the finals and get his award. He was undefeated at this point and his last game probably wouldn’t change that, so the least he could do was accept his first place trophy and look back on this Saturday as proof of his chess skills. 

 

Keith guessed that was fair, especially considering that his mom had paid 20 dollars for him to compete in the first place. Another hour or two wouldn’t kill him. So he sucked it up and waited for his final match to be posted on the walls. 

 

And his final match. Well, Keith wasn’t going to lie. His final match actually made getting up at 7 am on a Saturday worth it. 

 

-

 

“Yep, you’re the head of the table now. Your opponent is also undefeated so far too, champ,” Shiro mused, pointing to Keith’s name at the top of the postings.

 

Huh. So someone else was having an easy time, too? That was something. 

 

Keith’s eyes focused on his opponent’s name beside him. “Lance McClain?” Keith sounded out, giving Shiro a wrinkled brow. This guy sounded like a racecar driver, not a chess player.

 

“Yep, let’s go get you set up then,” Shiro laughed, ignoring Keith’s judgemental look. 

 

-

 

Literally nothing could have prepared Keith for the sheer magnitude that was this kid. After meeting Lance, you would never hear another complaint from Keith about wanting more exciting opponents. 

 

Things that made Lance the weirdest opponent Keith has and probably ever will face in his life:

 

  1. Lance was the first opponent that was ever at the table before Keith. Keith was basically _always_ the first one to the table. What even?
  2. Instead of the normal standard blue, red, green, or black checkered boards, Lance’s was rainbow. Who made rainbow chess boards? Who _used_ rainbow chess boards? Was that even allowed in the rule book?
  3. Even worse (better?) were the pieces that, instead of black and white, were red and blue. What. How. What color was supposed to go first? Which one was supposed to represent White?
  4. Even Lance’s _clothes_ were ridiculous, standing out like a peacock in winter. Everyone else had on school issued team shirts or just regular t-shirts and jeans. And then there was Lance. In a tie-dye shirt with the words ‘I Rook’ on it. ‘I Rook’?
  5. Oh, and let’s not forget the final nail in the coffin: Lance’s clock. Covered every inch in Pokemon stickers. Did he have all 251 on there? How did he fit all of them on there?



 

Keith almost wanted to forfeit the match right then and there, just so he wouldn’t have to look at this...puke of color, for 30 long minutes. But if there was one thing Keith liked more than the ability to see, it was winning. And heck if he was just gonna give up a first place trophy because his opponent was apparently color blind.

 

-

 

“The name’s Lance,” the brightly colored boy stuck out his hand, giving Keith a big toothy grin along with it. “Nice to meet’cha Keith! Or should I say, nice to beat ya!” he winked, obviously proud of his word play intimidation tactics.

 

Keith was less impressed.

 

“Did a rainbow puke on you?” Keith deadpanned, his eyebrow twitching just looking at him.

Shiro pinched his arm and leveled him with a glare. Ah, number 16, the ‘play nice’ warning look.

 

“Well, at least my hair isn’t from the 70s,” Lance quipped back rather quickly, puffing up his chest and sticking his hand even further into Keith’s face. “Seriously, Mullet-man, even my Dad never wore one of those.” 

 

M-mullet?!

 

“A what?! I don’t-,” Keith fumed, grabbing Lance’s hand with more force than necessary and squeezing it in challenge, “I do NOT have a mullet!”

 

Lance’s grip was apparently just as unexpected as Lance himself. The kid looked like he had noodles for arms, how was his handshake this strong?! They both shook their hands viciously, glaring at each other just as intensely. Shiro actually had to remove their hands from the vice grip before one of the attendants came over and disqualified them for unsportsmanship-like conduct.

 

Keith and Lance sat down with a huff, still not breaking eye contact. Keith almost didn’t even notice Shiro taking off to the lounge with the staring contest in full force. He finally had to concede defeat on that match (dang it!) so that he could turn and give his brother a wave goodbye. Shiro didn’t have to walk him to his seat or help him set up each time, so giving him a solid goodbye was the least he could do to say thanks. 

 

As soon as Shiro left, however, Keith was ready to turn his glare up to full fury mode. 

 

The staring contest lasted the whole match.

 

-

 

Bishop to F5.

 

Knight to D4. 

 

Rook to H6.

 

Queen to B3.

 

Check. 

 

Check.

 

Check.

 

-

 

Keith looked over at the clock. Oh man. Keith only had about 3 minutes left on his side. 

 

Had it really been that long? 

 

He took a quick glance around the room while waiting for Lance to make his move and almost cringed when it confirmed his suspicions.

 

They were literally the only ones left. 

 

Worst of all, Keith still wasn’t sure how he was going to beat him. Every other opponent so far made tons of mistakes or had a clear weakness. Either they got greedy and placed their pieces in peril too quick, or they took a piece that turned out to be bait, or just were impatient and moved their pieces wherever. Everyone had a weakness. 

 

But Lance?

 

His plays were flawless.

 

Every time Keith thought he might have him in a bind, Lance ended up pulling a move out of thin air. 

 

He just couldn’t. He just couldn’t-

 

“Check,” Lance answered, their staring match still in full throttle, but sidelined for in between moves. 

 

Keith moved his King to the left, before tapping the clock again.

 

Lance narrowed his eyes, calculating his next move. He lifted his Queen and then put her down again, this time facing Keith’s knight. He tapped the clock.

 

Keith moved his knight, placing it to check Lance’s King. “Check.” He tapped the clock, glaring at Lance once again.

 

A frustrated sigh escaped his lips.

 

He just couldn’t figure him out.

 

-

 

No. No way this was happening. 

Keith’s eyes frantically searched every possible move. 

 

This couldn’t be happening.

 

In 3 moves, Lance was going to win. The checkmate was there in plain site. Lance had to have seen it, right? 

 

Lance moved his rook and tapped the clock. Keith hurried and moved his queen immediately, tapping the clock right away. 

 

Maybe he didn’t see it. Lance was still staring at the board and analyzing everything. He moved his rook again. “:Check.” Okay, nope, he saw it. Definitely.

 

Keith squirmed and moved his king. This was it. Lance had him. All he had to do was move his queen down 6 squares and he’d be done. The first place prize lost. Lost to some kid who looked like he got thrown into a cotton candy machine-

 

_ Bzzzzzt! _

 

...What?

 

Keith looked over at the clock. 

 

...Oh.

 

“What?!! No, but-!!!” Lance screamed, standing up from his seat. His eyes glared daggers at the offending clock, almost in an attempt to turn back the clock with sheer will. “I had you!!!” He pointed at Keith defiantly.

 

Keith smirked, “Yeah, sucks that you ran outta time the, huh?” He picked up his bag and stuck out his hand. Okay, Keith had to admit that he had no right to gloat. Afterall, Lance really would have won if it wasn’t for the time running out. Still, a win was a win and victory over Mr. Tie-dye sure was the sweetest he had ever tasted.

 

“Next time, Mullet,” Lance grabbed his hand, metaphorical sparks igniting with the intensity of his dagger-like eyes,”you won’t be so lucky. I’ll checkmate you into oblivion.”

 

“Wow, oblivion, huh? Didn’t know a rainbow had such a wide vocabulary.”

 

“You wanna go-?!”

 

-

 

“All you had to do was say ‘good game’,” Shiro sighed, leaning up against the wall. He gave a side-glance to the boy by his side, pouting on the ground with his handheld.

 

“He started it,” Keith answered, not looking up from his current battle with the gym leader. He was gonna get that badge by the end of the day if it was the last thing he did.

 

“Yeah, and Coran had to end it,” Shiro answered, recalling having to hear from Coran that his little brother and his opponent almost got into a fist fight over something as meaningless as a stupid chess game. “Whatever, you have your trophy now. I promise you don’t have to go to one of these again. I’ll just convince Mom-”

 

“Don’t.” 

 

Shiro looked down at Keith. The Gameboy was eerily paused despite his eyes still staring at the screen, focused. 

 

“What?” Shiro asked. He must have heard him wrong.

 

“Don’t convince Mom,” Keith answered softly, almost guiltily. 

 

“I thought you hated today? You said you were so bored and your opponents were all-” Shiro started, confused as to Keith’s sudden change.

 

Oh.

 

Ohhhh.

 

“I never knew you liked rainbows, champ-”

 

“Shut up, Takashi!!” 

 

-

 

Keith’s not quite sure when waking up at 7 am on Saturday became normal, but it probably happened somewhere after his fourth chess meet. Now after a solid year of it, Keith couldn’t even remember the last time he slept in on a Saturday.

 

His mom would happily wake him up, excited to see him and Shiro off. Sending him a quick, ‘Good luck, Sweetie. Knock’em dead’ before also whispering to also ‘say hi to Lance’ for her. He’d always ignore that last part.

 

Keith’s also not quite sure when his mom and Shiro all of a sudden thought he and Lance were friends. The extent of their conversations in the past years could be summarized in 4 sentences: 

 

“Mullet.”   
  
“Rainbow.”

 

“Ready to face defeat today?”

 

“You say that every time so sorry if I don’t look that scared, Tie-dye.”

 

Really, if anyone called that friendship, he’d hate to see what enemies looked like. Despite that, Keith couldn’t help but somehow look forward to every Saturday. He’d go the whole week practicing, looking up strategies, and thinking of new ways he’d be able to wipe the floor with Lance’s multi-colored chess pieces. By the time he realized it, Saturday would be there again and he’d mindlessly work his way to the top of the standings only to face off against Lance in all his blinding glory. Sure, not every meet would they both be undefeated, but it happened more often than not. In the past year, he could count the amount of times he and Lance didn’t end up in the finals together on one hand. 

 

Even though the outcome of the match changed sometimes (Keith still was winning 7-3), Lance’s absurdity never did.

 

Call Keith crazy, but he’s pretty sure Lance was just doing it on purpose at this point. Last meet, Lance wore 8 different colored bracelets (one for every color of the rainbow, Lance pointed out). The time before that were his bright yellow sneakers. And before that were the sunglasses that literally no one could ever see out of because they had the words ‘check’ and ‘mate’ on the lenses. 

 

It’s like he was just doing it out of spite now. 

 

“Aaaaand we’re here,” Shiro announced, parking the car. He unbuckled himself, before opening up the door and stepping out and starting up the stairs. Shiro knew by now he didn’t even have to wait for Keith to come barrelling up the steps right after him, even more excited than him to get to the meet. 

 

Shiro was glad their mom suggested this, way back when.

 

He was also glad that a certain kid with a bright grin and even brighter clothes decided to show up that day too.

 

-

 

Somewhere down the line, the insults that once would piss Keith off became terms of endearment. At least, that’s what Shiro called them every time Keith would complain to him.

 

“We meet again, Mullet,” Lance grinned, peering over his checkmate sunglasses. 

 

“What, no rainbow pinwheel to attach to your head? No peace sign necklace?” Keith smirked, taking a seat and giving Lance a fist bump. 

 

“Nah, decided to bring back the ‘ol checkmate shades,” he laughed, already setting up the pieces.

 

“Ah, yes. A classic,” Keith replied sarcastically, grabbing Lance’s clock and setting the timer. A small laugh escaped his mouth when he noticed his opponents’ pout. “What?”

 

“Come on, Keith, you didn’t even notice?” Lance asked, turning his head slightly to the left, then to the right. 

 

“Notice what?” Keith asked, now totally confused. He cocked his head to the side.

 

“Okay, I’ll give you a hint,” Lance smiled, then pointed at his ears. 

 

Ears…? Keith narrowed his eyes. Was he supposed to be listening for something? What did ears have to-

 

Wait.

 

“Are those earrings?” Keith deadpanned. 

 

“Ding, Ding, Ding! We have a winner!” Lance grinned, throwing invisible confetti in the air. “Seriously though, you like? I got my ears pierced 2 weeks ago right after the last meet in celebration of my victory,” he smirked.

 

“Wow, good thing you don’t win that often. I’d hate to see what your ears would look like,” he replied back, teasing. At Lance’s puffed up cheeks he couldn’t keep up the act though. He caved immediately. “They look nice,” he answered for real, giving him a smile.

 

Compliments weren’t exactly something Keith gave out to anyone. 

 

Well, unless your name was Lance. 

 

-

 

“So, Mullet, what do you do when you aren’t touring with Bowie or winning chess tournaments?” Lance asked, their second year of meeting up at these tournaments.

 

The question kind of took Keith by surprise. They never really talked outside of standard playful trash-talk that honestly sounded more like inside jokes between old friends than intimidation tactics. And when they did, it was mostly Lance leading the conversations, like what he did last weekend since they only had meets twice a month, or what he was going to get his sibling for their birthday. It was never about Keith.

 

“What do you mean?” Keith answered back, setting up his side of the table. He called dibs on the red pieces ever time. 

 

“Well, like,” Lance started, pulling out two sticks of gum and handing one to Keith, “I can’t help but notice that you never compete with a school team. So like, do you not get along with your school’s team? Or do you guys not have one?”

 

“I’m homeschooled,” Keith said, grabbing the gum with a small hum of a thank you. “So I don’t really have a team to compete with.” 

 

“Oh, huh,” Lance frowned, obviously not anticipating that answer. “So what made you want to compete? It’s not like it’s a club you joined, so you must be in it for something? The money, fame? The girls?” Lance asked, totally recovered and now wiggling his eyebrows.

 

Keith laughed at that. “No, no, and absolutely not,” he set up the clock. He noticed Lance was still waiting for more of an answer, curiosity still painting his features. “I, well.”

 

What...was he supposed to say? _ ‘Oh yeah, I started because my mom and brother both hated me being antisocial and I kept coming back for you?’ _ Yeah. Sure. He’d take that thought to the grave.

 

“I guess, because it’s fun?” Keith furrowed his brow. He continues that train of thought at Lance’s silent ‘go on’. “I mean, since I don’t go to school, I really never have anyone my age to hang out with, so stuff like this is nice. Plus, you know, chess,” he finishes lamely, like that explains it all.

 

“Oh, so you have friends here that you want to see,” Lance brightens at that, completely content with his bullshit of an answer. “I get you. I love chess and all, but the real reason I love coming to these meets is because I get a whole day to just hang out with Pidge and Hunk and goof around a school campus with no parents,” he laughs. 

 

Pidge and Hunk were two of Lance’s closest friends and avid chess players too. Keith had played Hunk quite a few times over the past years, but it was clear he still had a way to go before beating him or Lance. Pidge, on the other hand, was so far ahead of them in skill that she was in the high school division even though she was still in 4th grade, so he never got to play her. He wouldn’t lie that he was looking forward to the day he’d be able to challenge her to a match. A game against a true kid genius. 

 

“That sounds like fun,” Keith replied, tapping his finger on the table, trying to get a song Shiro had blasting in the car earlier today out of his head. They stilled when he noticed Lance’s sudden silence. 

 

It was like someone flicked a switch or something. One second, Lance was babbling on about how he enjoyed the meets because of his friends. Next, Keith made one comment saying that it sounded fun and suddenly it was like someone died. Did he say something wrong?

 

“...Who are the friends you come to see?” Lance asked in a serious tone, almost interrogating him. “Because now that you mention it, you said you come here for friends, but I’ve never heard you mention them. Or see you around with them…” 

 

Shit.

 

“Uh, well, you know, just people,” Keith answered, almost unable to look him in the eye. “My friend Shay comes to these meets a lot, but she has her own group she hangs out with for the...most...part…” he trails off at Lance’s unimpressed look. 

 

“Keith.” 

 

Uh oh.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Silence. He couldn’t keep avoiding Lance’s line of sight like this. 

 

Keith chanced a glance at Lance’s eyes. Big mistake.

 

It was like someone had ripped out his heart. Lance was just looking straight through him, able to see that he really didn’t have anyone here that he came to see. Well, no one accept for-

 

“You should hang out with my group sometime then,” Lance offered, sending him a big grin.

 

What.

 

“Huh?” Keith replied, oh-so intelligently.

 

That...was not what he was expecting. 

 

“Yeah! I’ve been wanting to introduce my number one rival, my only equal, the Sasuke to my Naruto, if you will,” Keith snorted, “to my team anyway. They know all about our battle for glory and bragging rights.” Lance waved a hand in the air, making a small “pssssh” sound after the fact. “Not that it’s really any competition, of course.” 

 

“True, it really isn’t a competition if I beat you every time,” Keith quipped, trying desperately to hide his internal giddiness at the idea of hanging out with someone outside of just playing them in a chess match. 

 

“That’s NOT what I meant,” Lance responded quickly, leveling him with a harmless glare. “I meant that it isn’t really a competition anymore so much as a tradition. I mean, we’re at the point where neither of us can really say we won, considering we’ve both lost games to one another at least a dozen times-”

 

“Actually, only  _ you’ve _ lost a dozen times. I’ve only lost-” Keith cut in, ready to rub his current score of 12 wins to Lance’s 7.

 

“Upupupupupupup!” Lance cut him off, reaching over to pull zipper over Keith’s lips, urging him to zip it before speaking even louder, “we’ve both lost a lot of games to one another, so let’s just count it as a tie as far as bragging rights and glory goes.” 

 

“I guess I can live with that,” Keith laughed, removing Lance’s fingers from the corner of his mouth. 

 

“Great! Then to commemorate our new truce,” Lance reached down and grabbed his backpack. He pulled out a black baseball cap with a white checkered design on the rim and a Knight on the front. “Ta-dah!”

 

Shit. How was he supposed to beat that? Keith internally added a point to Lance’s ‘win’ column:

 

_ Keith: 12 _

_ Lance: 8 _

 

“You. Bought me a hat?” Keith stumbled. He could feel the flush rise to his cheeks and he willed his heart to calm down. His former ‘rival’ had bought him a hat.

 

“Of course!” Lance gasped, acting as if he was insulted that Keith would ever suggest  _ not  _ buying him a gift (clothes, nonetheless). “I always celebrate milestones! Remember the first time I beat you and I came back with my King shirt?”

 

Oh yes, the ‘I’m the King of the Board’ shirt. How could Keith forget?

 

“Plus, it’ll help cover up your mullet and, let’s face it, that’s a win-win situation for everyone,” Lance winked, handing the hat over to him.

 

Keith was still slightly in shock. Lance had really bought him something. 

 

No one had ever-

 

“No one besides my family has ever given me a present before,” Keith smiled. Noticing the little hole in the back, Keith set down the hat before grabbing his hair and tying it up with the simple black band he usually kept on his wrist. He put the hat on and pulled his small ponytail through the hole before lifting his gaze to Lance.

 

Huh. Well, that wasn’t what he was expecting to see.

 

The guy looked like a tomato, red covering every inch of his skin from the neck up. He also seemed inhumanly still, which was very worrying considering this was Lance he was talking about. Was he even breathing?

 

“Uh, Lance?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“O-oh? Yeah?! You’ve never gotten a gift before?” Lance answered, voice slightly higher than usual and more strained than Keith had ever heard before.”Well, I’m proud I’m your first!”

 

_ His first. _

 

Keith snorted, covering his mouth to keep his laughter from spilling out. Oh, just wait until Lance realized-

 

Ah, there it was.

 

“NOT LIKE THAT,” Lance almost shrieked, now noticing the double entendre. Curse their currently developing adolescent minds! “You know what I meant!”

 

He couldn’t help it now, the laugh just came rolling out. Keith almost doubled over with giggles and snorts. “I-I’m,” he attempted to say between the laughs, “I’m sorry it was-it was just too perfect.”

 

“You know what? I take it back. You aren’t allowed to hang out with my friends. Give me back the hat.”

 

-

 

“Hey, champ, you’re back! How did the match- hey, whoa, where are you going? You just got back-”

 

“No time to talk, Shiro. I’m gonna go hang out with Lance’s friends in their classroom. I’ll be back before the awards, kay bye!”

  
  


-

 

It just sort of became a routine.

 

Wake up Saturday morning. Drive to the meet, wherever it was being held this week. Dash over to sign up at the check-in, then hurriedly ask if Altea Middle School had arrived yet. If so, get their classroom number and say hi to Lance and his friends, then spend the whole day in there besides when he had to go to a match. If not, rinse and repeat every 10 minutes until they got there. Before Keith knew it, another year went by.

 

“Hey mullet, ever think about going to a public school?” Lance asked, off-hand one day. He and Keith sat side by side, huddled in a little reading corner of the classroom they were given, battling each other’s Pokemon teams (Keith was winning, of course).

 

“How come?” Keith asked, sending out his Blaziken. He looked up from the screen for a second to meet Lance’s eyes.

 

“Well, I was just thinking: if you went to my school and ended up joining our team, we would take nationals for sure!” Lance grinned, setting his Gameboy Advance down and turning his full attention to Keith. “I mean, I’m already amazing and responsible for our team making it to State every year,” Lance flourished a hand at his face, earning a snort from Keith in response, “but with you getting rid of the other competition, we’d be golden!”

 

“Why do I feel like you have really detailed plans about this?” Keith raised a brow, now putting down his own Gameboy. One look at Lance’s look of utter surprise and couldn’t help the laugh bubbling up in his throat.

 

“How dare you suggest I haven’t been planning our world wide chess domination for years, my dear Keith!” Lance gasped in mock offence. He placed a hand over his heart before taking in a deep breath. Oh boy. Keith knew exactly what was coming. A certified Lancey Lance speech. “I’ll have you know I have in depth strategies and timelines of exactly how we can make it to state, nationals, and then compete together on a global scale. People will be talking about us for years to come!,” he lifted his hand from his heart and held it up to the ceiling, moving it left to right in a dramatic show of painting a grandiose picture for Keith’s benefit. “I can see it now!  ‘Lance and Keith, the dynamic duo, the the terrific two, the -’”

 

“Marvelous morons,” a voice spoke up from across the room. Pidge adjusted her glasses and sent a devious smirk in their direction. “Not that I don’t enjoy listening to you propose to Keith,” Lance let out a squeak of protest, “but some of us are trying to practice for our upcoming match, so I’d appreciate if you whispered your plans for chess marriage instead.”

 

“Y-You know what Pidge?! If we ever _ do _ get chess married, you aren’t invited! So there!” Lance squawked, grabbing Keith’s hand as he stood up, face burning red. “Come on, Keith. Apparently my awesome plans aren't appreciated around here!”

 

Keith just let himself get dragged out of the classroom, still processing the exchange that just occurred. 

 

-

 

“Hey champ, how’d the visit over at the classroom go?”

 

“I think I just got... engaged?”

 

Shiro choked.

 

-

 

“Okay, but Wonder Woman beats every superhero besides the Hulk and you know it,” Hunk answered, chomping on one of the breakfast tacos Keith brought for the team.

 

“The Hulk is cool, but can you just straight up dismiss how strong Thor is?” Lance replied back, half garbled with his mouth full of food.

 

“Don’t forget Deadpool, he’s literally immortal,” Pidge answered from her chess match against her computer A.I. It was basically the only thing around that could challenge her at this point, besides college students. “What about you, Keith? Who’s your favorite?”

 

“...Spiderman,” Keith grumbled guiltily around his taco.

 

“Really, Keith? Spiderman?” Lance raised an unimpressed brow at him. “The dude shoots webs and can jump really well. That’s it. Even Batman is better than him.”

 

“It’s not his powers that makes him cool!” Keith stutters out his argument, basically dropping his taco in defiance. “It’s how resourceful he is! He only has a few powers and yet he’s able to do so much with them! Thor’s a god, Batman can make anything he wants with all that money, Deadpool’s immortal, and Wonder Woman is an alien from a planet of Amazons. Spiderman’s just a normal guy in comparison yet he saves just as many people as them! That’s a true hero!”

 

The table is silent.

 

“Did Keith somehow make Spiderman the best hero ever made out of sheer willpower?” Hunk speaks up, breaking the silence.

 

Lance drops his head on the table with a grown, “how are you real, man?”

 

Keith blushes, going back to eat his taco. He turns his attention to the still silent Pidge, now looking straight at him with a weird look on her face. She spins the screen of her laptop around to face him.

 

‘Way to go man, you just won Lance over for good. Spiderman is low-key his favorite too,’ is written in bold letters on an otherwise empty Word document.

 

Keith slams the laptop shut, ignoring Pidge’s cackles.

 

_ Keith: 14 _

_ Lance: 10 _

 

-

 

“You know, at a certain point you are going to have to admit you like him a little bit more than just average friendship levels, champ,” Shiro whispered to his little brother, now tall enough that he only had to bend over a little to look him in the eye.

 

“Well, we haven’t reached that point yet, Takashit,” Keith glared at him, whispering back in a tone that urged his nosy big brother to stay out of it. He started setting up Lance’s board, rainbow color starting to fade away with time but still ever present, since Lance had to run to the bathroom before the finals. Hence the whispering. He’d kill his brother, no matter how much he loved him, if Lance overheard their current topic of conversation.

 

“If Mom only knew your potty mouth outside of the house,” Shiro laughed, giving Keith a pat on the head as a substitute for his hair ruffles. 

 

Keith smirked at that. Ever since Lance had given him this hat, the ‘Lance Hat’, Shiro dubbed it, Keith’s hair was ruffle free. No more brother nogies that would torture his already messy hair. Sure, he knew Shiro only did it playfully, but it was a menace to his hair and he did  _ not  _ need to have bed-head level of hair in front of his former rival turned best friend. 

 

It also helped that Lance was the one who gave it to him. If it was up to Keith, he’d never take it off.

 

“Be careful, Keith, you’re making your Lance face again,” Shiro teased, earning him an elbow in the stomach.

 

“Shut up, he’s coming!” Keith fumed, plopping down in his seat and trying to will the rising blush off his cheeks.

 

“Thanks for setting it up, Mullet!” Lance smiled, taking his own seat and giving a wave to Shiro. He took out his clock and handed it over for Keith to set, like he always did, before sending a confident grin towards Keith’s big brother. “You better give Keith a raise on his allowance this month after the 20 bucks he’s gonna lose on this match!”

 

“Either that, or dinner’s on me tonight,” Keith taunted, placing the clock down and leaning back in his chair. “You got nothing to worry about, Shiro.”

 

Shiro just sighed before sending a good-natured wave to both the boys, signalling his leave back to the teacher’s lounge. He needed a rest after all of his little brother’s forest-level pining.

 

-

 

“So? Who won?”

 

“We’re eating at Olive Garden tonight, Takashi.”

 

_ Keith: 15 _

_ Lance: 10 _

 

-

 

Keith took a deep breath. What was he so nervous about? Worse case scenario was that his mom said no. He could still see everyone at meets, nothing would change. 

 

And best case scenario-

 

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Did you lose your bet with Lance this time? I can always give you a little extra-,” his mom started, muting the tv and turning her attention to Keith’s currently pale and nervous self.

 

“That’s not exactly...what happened,” Keith mumbled, clasping his hands behind his back. “We didn’t...bet money this time.” His mom was gonna kill him. How could he phrase  _ ‘See mom, Lance has been wanting me to go to high school with him next year and because I’m basically hopelessly in love with him now, I bet that if I lost I would have to beg you for me to go.’  _ in a good way? Think Keith, think!

 

“Oh? What were you playing for then?” she asked, humor lacing her voice and a finger dancing on the remote control. Well, at least she was having fun with this conversation.

 

“I kinda, might’ve,” Keith fumbled, before finally looking her in the eye, “promised that I’d ask if I could enroll in Altea High next year.”

 

A bead of sweat rolled down Keith’s temple. She hadn’t flat out said ‘no’ yet. That was a good sign, right?

 

“Keith,” His mom smiled with soft eyes, “Of course you can go. Why would you ever think I’d say no about something like that?”

No way. Just like that?

 

“Wait, seriously?!” Keith’s eyes widened, unable to believe that his mom actually was allowing this. “You’re not joking, right?! I’ve gotta-” he ran straight out of the living room to get his phone, ignoring his mom’s laughter ringing and Shiro’s cries of ‘No running in the house!’.

 

He  _ had  _ to tell Lance right now.

 

-

 

“Hey Mullet! What’s up, you never call m-”

 

“Time to buy me another hat or something because I’m going to school with you guys next year.”

 

_ Keith: 15 _

_ Lance: 11 _

 

-

 

“Dude! No way!” Hunk squeezed Keith into a big hug, “Lance said you are going to Altea with us next year?! I’m so excited!!”

 

“Hunk, you’re choking him,” Pidge laughed, pulling Keith by the arm and giving him a hug of her own. “Same though.”

 

Keith just laughed. He was excited too.

 

“Okay, okay, give the guy some room!” Lance announced, pushing Pidge out of the way with a gentle hand. He cleared his throat and made a motion for Keith to sit down. “Now, because your announcement was short notice, I didn’t really have time to get a commemorative gift-” Keith let out a teasing ‘awwww’ in response , “buuuuuut, I do have this!” 

 

Lance handed a small piece of paper, laminated and everything, over to Keith. On it were the words ‘Free Pass’.

 

“Free Pass for what, Rainbow Boy?” Keith deadpanned.

 

“For whatever you need it for. You owe me for a bet? Free pass to get out of it. We get in an argument for pizza and you don’t want to admit that pineapple on it is bad? Free pass. You want a hug? A pat on the back? A compliment? Me to actually say something I’d never say like ‘I love your mullet, Mullet-man’? All acceptable under the Free Pass clause,” Lance grinned, giving a bow. “Use it wisely.” 

 

That was actually kinda thoughtful. But also really _ really _ stupid on Lance’s part.

 

“You  _ do _ you realize how much power you just gave me,” Keith smirked, playing with the laminated card in his hand. “I could use the pass next year in high school and have you do a 20 page essay or something with this bad boy.”

 

Lance paled, but quickly recovered. “That’d be your right, Mullet-man,” he smiled softly before continuing, “It’s kinda worth it to have you there anyway.”

 

The effect was instantaneous. 

 

“How the hell do you say stuff like that with a straight face,” Keith groaned, hiding his ever reddening face into his hands.

 

Lance laughed and sent a wink his way. “Aw, don’t be like that! You know you love it!”

 

Yeah. He did. That was the problem.

 

_ Keith: 15 _

_ Lance: 12 _

 

-

 

Keith fumbled around with the box in his pocket, waiting outside the school entrance. Shiro gave him a little pat on the back before making his way over to their car. Ugh. His hands were sweating and his heart was racing. It was like that day 4 years ago, when he sat there across from Shay and had a panic attack over some stupid clocks. Only now, somehow, he felt even more pathetic.

 

This was no big deal. Lance gave him a present before, why would this be any different?  _ ‘Because Lance is Lance and you don’t even give your own brother such fancy gifts for his birthday,’ _ echoed in his brain. 

 

Not now, conscious. 

 

“Keith?” a voice sounded from behind him, jolting Keith out of his current downwards spiral. He turned around to find Lance jogging down the path, only to stop in front of him and give him a big hug. “Wow, you waited to say goodbye?! You never do that! Guess you’re really gonna miss me until school next year, huh?” 

 

“Y-yeah, something like that,” Keith blushed, looking down at his shoes. Noticing his tone of voice, Lance let go of him and sent him an asking look. He clasped his hand around the little box. 

 

Now or never.

 

“I actually,” Keith pulled out the box and then held it out towards Lance, “got you a...gift...thing.” Wow, real smooth Keith, real smooth. He lifted his gaze.

Keith was having some serious deja vu moment.

 

Lance looked just as red as the day Keith tried on the hat he bought him, so many years ago. Even his hand was shaking when grabbed the box, slowly opening it. Keith held his breath. Sure, he didn’t have much experience in this sort of stuff, but considering it was Lance-

 

A laugh. Wha-

 

“What? Is-is it bad? Do you not like-” Keith panicked. He was so sure that Lance would like them! Where did he mess up?!

 

“No, nothing like that, Mullet,” Lance interrupted.

 

Oh. He was.

 

“I love them,” Lance smiled, eyes almost glistening with the formation of tears. “Thanks.”

 

“Oh, good,” Keith sighed in relief, “I’m glad you like them.”

 

Lance moved over to the side of the path and leaned against the guard rail, setting the box down. His fingers quickly removed his current studs before picking up the earrings. The earrings  _ Keith _ bought him.

 

“How’d you know that Rooks are my favorite?” Lance chuckled while putting in his left earring. He held his phone up with the camera facing him to take a look at the black and white Rook earrings now perched on his earlobes. A choke sounded from Keith in response. Did he say something?

 

“I didn’t, but,” Keith answered, blushing but making eye contact nonetheless, “You know our first match we had? Back in Elementary?” At Lance’s nod in response, Keith took a small breath. He might as well just be honest. 

 

“You were dressed ridiculous,” Keith deadpanned. Lance let out an indignant squawk. “You still do now too,” Keith continued, smirk increasing. “But you know…”

 

“I think that’s the thing I like most about you,” Keith smiled, turning and facing Lance. “You’re bright, so bright that it’s almost kinda hard to look at you. And funny. And kinda stupid sometimes-”

 

“Keith, this is negating all the good karma you earned from the earrings-” Lance grumbled.

 

“But,” Keith interrupted, effectively shutting Lance up, “You’re fun to be around. You make people laugh and brighten up even something as dull as a chess competition. You,” Keith paused, “You made a kid who never had a friend before in his life want to wake up at 7 am on a Saturday every other week for 4 years. And that day, way back when I first met you, you were wearing a tie-dye shirt,” Keith huffed out a small laugh at the memory, “with the words ‘I Rook’ on it.”

 

“You remembered that?” Lance asked, voice small, but full of wonder. 

 

Keith reached into his other pocket, pulling out the small laminated paper Lance gave him the other week. “How could I forget?” He twirled the paper between his hands before slowly handing it over to Lance.

 

“Why are you-?” Lance started to ask, grabbing onto the free pass and-

 

A swift peck to his cheek, no longer than a second, yet somehow enough to swoop all the air out of his lungs.

 

“Checkmate,” Keith whispered. 

 

_ Keith: 16. _

_ Lance: 12. _


End file.
